Chronicles of a Flower Child
by CrystalGemMaker
Summary: Time reminds her of trees, old and lasting. Memories remind her of roses that wilt and fade. Love, she thinks, is like a weed. Not always wanted and annoyingly always popping up where you don’t expect it. Warren/Layla. Before.during.after movie
1. Woman to Child

**Chronicles of a Flower Child**

**Chapter One: Woman to Child**

---

_There moved the multitudinous stars,  
and colored birds and fishes moved.  
There swam the sliding continents.  
All time lay rolled in me, and sense,  
and love that knew not its beloved. _

---

"Beautiful girl," A seagull cawed as he landed on the open windowsill of the beach cottage. His white and gray feathers ruffled and mussed slightly as he fidgeted his wings. "Precious child."

August Matthews, who had been talking to animals since she was five, didn't even jump at the impromptu visitor. She had learned long ago that animals had no guidelines for when it was proper to drop in or not. Whenever animals felt the need to talk they did so without really caring if she was busy or not.

Oh well, it all came with the territory.

"She's my daughter," August explained to the bird with a proud smile. Her dark brown eyes gazed lovingly down at the girl who squirmed within her bed.

"Precious child," The bird repeated, his beak still dripping with salty water and his pale, flat eyes watching August as she moved around the bedroom. "Child of the earth. Child born of nature."

"Yes, yes," August nodded at the bird. Birds were never the most interesting animals to talk to (nothing like cats or foxes) but they were a generally nice species. "She is very precious. She's only a few days old." She gave the bird a slight shrug. "Precious and young."

"Child born of nature," The seagull's feet clicked against the wood as he shifted. "Rain, sea, wind, dirt…" He continued listing as August pulled back her long brown hair. She'd let him continue, no need to interrupt if he was so content on complimenting her daughter. "Flowers!" The bird finally declared. "Child of the flowers."

August laughed at the irony. "A flower child, huh?" She grinned. "How fitting."

"Blessings upon her!" The birds' wings twitched and he squawked again. "Blessings upon her!"

"Thank you," August bowed her head at the old seagull. Her mother had taught her to respect nature and all animals.

The bird seemed to be waiting for something so August quickly moved to grab a bag of crackers on the dresser. She crumbled up a few in her hand before walking towards the window. Salty air filled her nose as she reached out her palm to the seagull. Outside she could hear the crashing of waves and the laughter of families down on the beach.

"Here you go," She offered as the bird ate his fill. Once done August pulled back her hand. "Not having good luck hunting fish today?" She teased the bird.

The bird ignored her, his flat eye again on the baby in the bed, draped in pink blankets and surrounded by new toys.

"Child of the earth!" Was the bird's last words before he took flight with the flutter of wings and feathers. August watched him go, her eyes following the creature until he was merely a speck of white against the crystal blue sky. Finally she sighed and turned back to the room.

"You've been deemed a hippie already," August told her daughter as she walked towards the bed. "Just like your mom." She winked down at the baby.

The baby girl's eyes were open and staring up at her mother. August carefully grabbed her and held her in the crook of her arm. The baby was light and plaint in her hands. August couldn't help but kiss the baby's cute nose. The little gift in her arms was a part of her now, an almost physical extension. She couldn't imagine ever being without the small little flower child in her arms.

August Blaze Matthews had always prided herself for her independence. She bent to no rules and was straight-forward with her words and feelings. She saw no point in holding back for propriety. She believed in right and wrong and good and evil. But mostly she believed in the grey middle where people normally stayed. She believed in peace and nature and the power of one voice.

Yes, in short, she was a 'hippie'. If you were into labels or whatever—which she wasn't.

But it wasn't really her fault. Really. Her mother had been a true hippie and she had taught her daughter well. August was constantly at rallies and protests during her childhood. She drank herbal tea instead of milk and she went braless far past the time that was socially acceptable. All thanks to her mother's constant influence.

Yes, August knew a bit too much about her dear mother. She knew her mom smoked the good stuff, protested the man, slept in fields, and partied at Woodstock. Hell, August Blaze Matthews was more than likely _conceived_ at Woodstock.

But August was a far way from Woodstock now. Years had passed since her childhood of barefoot trips to Yellowstone and scarring visits to nudist colonies. She had been moved out of her mom's house for five years now and left to make her own mark in the world. She was a young woman on her own course.

A young, thriving woman who had just given birth to a beautiful baby girl.

"Layla…" August cooed down at the bundle in her arms. Ten fingers, ten toes. A small nose and rounded cheeks. Her baby was healthy and absolutely wonderful. "My gorgeous girl."

"Stop smiling at the baby like that," A voice broke through August's serene thoughts and she looked over her shoulder with a frown. "You'll scare the poor girl."

"Shut up!" August snapped irritably. "She's _my_ daughter so I can smile at her if I want!"

"She's _our_ daughter," The young man leaning against the doorframe corrected her as he gave her a saucy smile. August rolled her eyes at him, knowing he thought he was sexy. He was, unfortunately, but she'd die before letting him get a bigger ego. "And your smile is creepy."

"My smile is not creepy," August corrected him while turning her back in his direction. Once hidden from his view she defiantly smiled down at her daughter again.

Layla's little nose scrunched up as she blinked up at her mother. Her lips were unconsciously pulled into a small pout and her pale, smooth skin grew slightly flushed. August quickly stopped smiling, realizing she was indeed frightening her baby. Layla was only one week old and already August was wrapped around her little finger.

"Told you," A smooth voice taunted in August's ear. "You're scary."

"Hff," August narrowed her dark brown eyes at the young man. "I'll show you scary…"

His laugh filled the room as he gently pulled August back against his chest. He was only slightly taller than her so his lips could easily brush against the outside shell of her ear. He rocked them both gently as they stood, his eyes trained on the little girl in August's arms.

"She's going to have my hair," He decided as he looked at cinnamon locks that brushed the crown of the baby's head. Layla blinked up at him and then gave a toothless smile, seemingly happy with her father's statement.

"Your hair is darker than hers," August said softly. "Her hair is a lighter shade of red Mr. Arrogant."

Archer Williams grinned as he kissed August's cheek. She hated it when he did that so he tried to do it as often as he could. Besides, while she was holding a baby she couldn't swat at him like she normally did. "She already has your eyes, so don't be jealous."

August looked down at her daughter through thick lashes. Layla looked back up at her with chocolate brown eyes that mirrored her mothers. A surge of pride filled August as she gazed down at the identical set of orbs. Archer, Layla's father, had pretty blue eyes but August was unabashedly fond of her own brown irises.

"Do you think we could be good parents?" Archer asked her after a moment of comfortable silence. He was never a very serious person so his tense tone made August frown.

"It's a little too late to turn back now," August gave him a look as she moved to put Layla in her bassinette.

Archer was staring at her when she turned back around. His glowing blue eyes were almost narrowed with concentration and his head was tilted slightly. He was handsome (and quiet for once) and August found herself walking up and rubbing her hand around the slight stubble of his jaw.

"What're you thinking about?" She asked him with a teasing glare. "I can practically see the smoke coming out of your ears. Don't hurt yourself."

"Ha," He said with an amused smile. His eyes held hers as he stepped closer. "I was just thinking…that maybe I should marry you."

"_What_?" August cringed at the panicky shrill hitch her voice had held.

"It's only right," He explained with a streak of determination he normally didn't show around her. He'd always babied her despite her protest that she was a strong woman and didn't need his sexist behavior, and so she wasn't used to him truly defying her. "I mean, we have a _baby_ August!"

"I know that you idiot," August hit him on the shoulder. "And she's going to start crying if you don't shut up."

"Our daughter deserves two parents," He clenched his jaw and looked away from her. He hated being anything but joking and fun and charming.

"She has two parents," August crossed her arms. "Just because we're not married doesn't mean we're any less of the parents anyone else is."

Archer sighed. He had come from a pretty normal and conventional family. He had been raised with firm rules and tight morals and he had never truly left them behind. After meeting August his sophomore year at Sky High he finally tasted the freedom that had always eluded him. He loved her more than anything (except perhaps his new daughter) and he only wanted what was best for his new family.

"I just think you should marry me," Archer gave a lingering look over to the bassinette where his baby was slowly slipping into sleep. "Please." He added for good measure.

The please melted her a little. August closed her eyes and tried to regain her sense. Honestly, Archer could just be so _normal_ sometimes. Well, as normal as a man with the power to control the dark could be. Most of the time she loved his normalness but she absolutely hated his tendency to conform.

"I don't want to get married," August told him stubbornly.

She was independent. She was a child of the earth. She could talk to animals and meditate and foretell horoscopes. Talk to _animals_! How could someone so free be confined by nuptials and a wedding ring? It was insane. He was insane. And barbaric and apparently homicidal if he thought she'd take this—

"Please," He said again, much like the repetitive seagull that had previously visited the room.

"We'll talk about it, okay?" August grumbled because although she bent to no one's rules, she found it rather hard to be mean to the man in front of her. He was good for her, she knew that. He was lighthearted and calming where she was stubborn and wild. She was kin to animals and he was every part of mankind.

"You do owe me," He smiled down at her and pressed a quick kiss to her waiting lips.

"Oh, do I?" She danced away from his arms, enjoying the way she could frustrate him with her aloof behavior.

"Of course," He caught her and spun her back to him. "You named _my_ daughter _Layla_."

"There's nothing wrong with that name," August told him with narrowed eyes.

"It's an Eric Clapton song!" He laughed and kissed her sloppily on the cheek. She shuddered.

"Whatever," She frowned. "It's a pretty name."

"She's going to be a hippie," He tugged on her long brown hair where a few polished seashells and chrysanthemums were braided into the long strands. "Just like you."

August grinned broadly and let her eyes trail over to her sleeping daughter. A bundle of joy. A precious gift.

"She never had a chance," August agreed with a shrug.

The words of the seagull echoed in her head. Child of the earth. Child born of nature. Child of the flowers. And if a seagull could foretell that, then it must be true. Her daughter's aura sung of soft breezes, rippling water, cool rain, and fresh flowers. She was a daughter of mother earth.

"Layla," August murmured lovingly. "My flower child."

"Let's just hope she doesn't take to nudism like her grandmother," Archer's voice was slightly reproachful and teasing all at once.

August laughed as the sea breeze came floating in and filled the room, bringing in the smell of salt and sweet honeysuckle that lulled her daughter into peaceful dreams.

---

_You who were darkness warmed my flesh  
where out of darkness rose the seed.  
Then all a world I made in me;  
all the world you hear and see…_

[-_Judith Wright-_]

---

**This is the first part of my new story that will follow Layla throughout the course of her life. It will skip around a lot, touching on various events and memories. Some will be told in her point of view, others by the people surrounding her. **

**This story will take place before, during, and after the movie. It will be rated 'M' and eventually a strong Warren/Layla theme will be seen.**

**I just think Layla's life was probably more interesting than the movie ever had time to show and for a strong girl like her, her story deserves to be told. **

**Be patient though! The romance will come…**

**Tell me what you think (positively)!**


	2. Theory

**Chronicles of a Flower Child**

**Chapter Two: Theory**

_---_

_Into love and out again,_

_Thus I went and thus I go._

_Spare your voice, and hold your pen:_

_Well and bitterly I know_

---

Warren Peace had a theory. And that theory, although new and made inside a young boy's head, seemed pretty good.

He believed that dangerous beings would always be dangerous. A fish would always be a fish and a bird would always be a bird. So wouldn't a dangerous boy always be dangerous? Warren thought so.

So why, if he was dangerous, would his mom make him go to school?

Warren Peace hated school. Despised it. It was a wonder it didn't go up in flames.

_Accidentally_ of course.

"Warren," A cool hand gripped his shoulder and he looked up to see his mother, tall and perfect, giving him a brittle smile. He frowned back up at her and she tilted her head. "If you stare any harder we're going to have to call the fire department. That's no way to start your first day of school."

"Well I don't want to go to school," He moved his shoulder so that her hand slid away.

"School will be fine," She tried to convince him as she kneeled down to his level. Her cold gray eyes gently teased him as she ran her fingers through his black hair. "But you have to remember your father's training. If you don't calm down you're going to start another fire. Your skin is already burning up."

Warren shifted his gaze away from his mother, embarrassed at the mention of his previous acts of lack of control.

At his last school he'd gotten into a fight on the playground with some kid who had talked too much smack. Warren had won, but he'd received a few bruised and a nasty black eye. His injuries seemed miniscule compared to the other kid, though, who somehow had received burns wherever Warren had punched him.

No one could figure out how it had happened, these mysterious bruise-like burns. But Warren knew. Warren knew how his skin heated up like scorching iron when he was mad. Warren knew how flames glowed brighter in his presence and the air seemed to glisten like heated puddles of air over asphalt.

He had powers. Just like his father and just like his mother.

He had powers and no one else could know. And so his parents packed up and moved back to his father's home town, hoping to avoid a scandal. Who knows what could have happened? Warren could burn a teacher if she was scolding him, he could melt a desk if he didn't understand a question, or he could even burn down the entire school.

_Accidentally_ of course.

And so they moved away. And now school was starting again and Warren couldn't help but feel as if this whole thing would just happen again. His theory was fool-proof. Despite his father's stern instructions and his mother's chiding, he couldn't help but fear for his raging powers.

The heat that pulsed beneath his skin, rippling and trying to get out, was dangerous. It ached to surge and be free. It was dangerous. Vengeful. It made him a risk. It made him a hazard and he knew it. Even at the age of seven he knew how dangerous he was.

"Please try to behave," His mother straightened to her full height and looked back at the brick building before them. Her stormy eyes became resolute and she grabbed her son's hand. "Come on now, it's time to go in. I don't want you to be late."

Begrudgingly the small boy allowed himself to be dragged into the building. The smell of paste hit him fully as the glass doors shut behind him. He felt caged and the firm grip of his mother's hand was the only thing keeping him moving.

What if he hurt someone? What if he burned something? What if they had to move again?

He hated school. He hated the thought of it.

He wanted to turn and leave, but the risk of accidentally burning his mother's smooth cold hand kept him from resisting. He knew he had to be careful.

He was dangerous after all.

---

"Hey new kid!" A boy with bleached hair and a 'Rocket Power' shirt called to Warren as the class scattered across the blacktop. Warren turned and stopped walking. The kid ran up to him, smacking his back as he came to a stop. "What's up, man? You play basketball?"

Warren looked up at the tall basketball net that a few kids were already gathering around. The warm air of September blew against them and some students were taking off their jackets and laughing and screaming loudly as they ran. Warren looked back at his classmate and shrugged.

"I have a net at my house," Warren admitted, although the net was truly just a rusted rim and backboard nailed to the wall of his apartment building. But the kids at this school lived in houses, not apartments, and Warren knew better to say anything different than that.

"So you play? Awesome," The boy nodded and yelled to a few other boys that looked vaguely familiar to Warren. They made their way over to the group of kids that began to separate into makeshift teams. "So where are you from?"

"Detroit," Warren caught the basketball and dribbled it a few times. He'd played ball a few times back in Detroit with the neighborhood kids, but hadn't been very good. "We just moved here a few days ago."

"Awesome!" The boy replied. "My name's Dale."

"Warren Peace," Warren shot the ball and smirked as it went perfectly through the net.

"Okay Peace," Dale nodded. "You'll be on my team."

"Fine by me," Warren tilted his head.

"Sure you're up for this, Peace?" Another boy challenged.

"Yeah, your skin was a little warm," Dale muttered to him. "You ain't sick, right?"

"Nah," Warren caught the ball again, trying to ignore the brief feeling of panic. "I'm alright."

"Good, let's play some ball," Dale ran ahead of him and Warren got into position.

"Come on new kid, let's go," Another boy laughed.

Warren grinned and shuffled away as a few other kids playfully punched at his shoulders.

Maybe this school wouldn't be too bad.

---

Warren jumped off the steps of the bus, glad to be out in the clean air instead of trapped in the yellow monstrosity. His backpack, filled with his new binder and homework, jostled against his shoulders as he walked towards the apartment building he now lived in.

After the sound of the bus faded around the corner Warren realized he heard footsteps as well. He scowled. He was the only kid that got off the bus at the apartments, he was sure. So who else had gotten off? Who was following him?

Back in Detroit he'd heard of kids being jumped and beat up after school if they took the wrong way home. He'd been too young to experience such acts himself, but he knew that it wouldn't be good for anyone if they happened to him. He wasn't afraid of getting hurt, no. For a little boy, he wasn't very concerned with stuff like that.

He knew what would happen if he got into a fight.

Fire, burns. And then he'd have to move again.

He didn't really feel like moving again.

"Um, hello?" A voice stopped him.

He turned, already glaring, to see a small girl who looked a little lost. She was shorter than him and had dark red hair and skin that was much too pale for someone who had just ended summer vacation. She was a little on the plain side. Scrawny and ordinary.

"What is it?" Warren turned and walked again, allowing the small girl to catch up but refusing to look over at her.

"I think…" The girl frowned and then let off an odd laugh. Warren inwardly flinched before realizing she was laughing at herself, not him. "I think I got off at the wrong bus stop."

"Probably," Warren began to climb the steps to his apartment and was a little dismayed to find the girl followed him. Girls could be so annoying.

"I'm new here, my family just moved from the beach, so I don't know my way around." She seemed a little confused and irritated. "And these streets all look alike so I can't even remember which house is mine sometimes. Everything is the same!"

"What do you want me to do about it?" Warren dug the key out from under the front mat and unlocked to door. He really hoped the girl didn't plan on following him in.

"Oh, nothing!" She laughed again and then looked around, scuffing the toe of her green sneaker on the ground. "I can find my way home by myself." She said confidently. Warren wasn't too convinced, but didn't say so. If she wanted to try and be brave he wasn't going to stop her.

"Then go on," He waved her away as he swung the door open. "Get lost."

She huffed and rolled her eyes.

"I'm already lost," She told him teasingly.

Warren just shrugged and stepped into the apartment, throwing his bag into a chair and not bothering to look back. "Go take care of yourself; I'm not going to do it." He told her coolly as he slammed the door shut in her face. A momentary twinge of guilt touched him but he ignored it.

He stood by the door, listening with his head cocked to the side. He could hear her feet move and wondered if she was leaving, but then they came back towards the door and he smirked, somehow knowing she'd try again. Persistent thing, wasn't she?

"What?" He grumbled as he opened the door. The plain girl narrowed her eyes at him and folded her small arms over her stomach. "Still lost?"

"At least let me use your phone," She pushed past him, her thick red braid smacking his neck as she passed.

He shook his head as she pulled a stool up to the wall in order to reach the phone. With carefully displayed boredom he threw himself onto the couch and clicked the television on. It was propped up on a few unpacked boxes but it was working well enough.

He easily got lost in whatever cartoon was playing on the set, successfully ignoring the unwanted company.

For about ten seconds.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Click. Sigh. Tap. Click. Tap. Tap. Sigh.

Warren turned up the volume, trying to drown out whatever the younger girl was doing. He tried to refocus on Doug asking Patty Mayonnaise out but again the insistent sounds kept repeating. The volume went louder and so did the girl. Again and again. Warren scowled and gritted his teeth.

Tap. Sigh. Click.

"What's going on now?" Warren glowered at the girl who was cradling the phone in her lap and frowning. She glowered back and continued tapping random patterns of numbers and then hanging up and trying again. "Would you stop?" Warren asked when she didn't answer him.

"I can't remember my phone number," She finally sighed out, looking slightly defeated. "I knew it this morning but I already forgot."

Great, what now?

"Well just be quiet," Warren instructed. There was no reason for both of them to be upset.

"What do you expect, I'm only six?" She complained.

The redhead hung the phone back on its hook and climbed off the stool. Warren watched from the corner of his eye as she looked around the small apartment for the first time. Wonder shown in her eyes and she touched the labels of few boxes, trying her best to read them.

"You just moved here too," She finally deducted as she grinned.

"Yeah," Warren looked back to the television and said nothing as he felt the couch shift with her arrival. She swung her legs over the edge and a gentle humming sound came lightly from her mouth. They sat for a moment, both watching the screen.

"My mom will be worried," She finally said.

"Moms always worry," Warren looked out the window and down towards the parking lot.

"Where is your mom?" She moved to her knees and looked over the back of the couch, trying to find someone else.

"She's at work," Warren explained.

The young girl sat back down and faced forward. "Oh," She stared at the side of his face. "So you stay here by yourself after school?"

"Yeah," Warren gave her a look. "So?"

She just smiled and shrugged. "That must be terribly lonely."

"It's not."

"You're only in fourth grade," She said. "You shouldn't be alone."

"I'm in second grade," Warren corrected her with a small smirk as her moth opened a bit in shock. She looked like fish.

"You look older," She began unlacing her shoes.

"What are you doing?" Warren turned off the television, realizing he wasn't going to be able to focus with this girl around.

"Lets make something to eat, I'm starving," The girl placed her shoes beside the couch and then scrambled into the kitchen area. "I can't go home until your mom gets off of work anyway. She'll help me get home, won't she?"

She innocently searched through the bare cupboards and Warren got up to help her find some food. He was a little hungry too.

"Yeah, she'll help you." Warren opened the fridge. It was bare too.

"Great!" She laughed and she pulled out a bag of chips from a shelf. Warren grabbed the last soda and two cups. "Then I'll go home later."

"Whatever," Warren shrugged as he poured her some soda and listened to her chatter about the beach and her first day of school.

"And tomorrow the teacher said we'll be growing lima beans!" She gushed as she held her soda carefully with two hands. She sipped a bit and slid it back on the counter. "I can't wait! Even though I didn't really make many friends today, I know I will tomorrow. I can feel it."

Warren didn't say anything.

"It's too bad you're not in my class," She grabbed a few chips and popped them into her mouth. "I'm in first grade and you're in second grade. We're too far apart. We could have been friends."

"Oh well," Warren helped her set the food on a box as they settled back in front of the television. Boys and girls weren't really friends at this age anyway, but he wasn't going to tell her that. She seemed like the type to insist otherwise and demand to hang around the boys.

"You're nice though," She decided as she watched the set flicker before her. "We can be friends for today, just until your mom gets home." She said with the sense of a child who knew all the secret workings of the world. "We can be friends today, so I won't be lost and you won't be lonely."

Warren said nothing, because he wasn't really lonely and he didn't really need friends. But she _was_ lost, and that was enough to allow a momentary friendship. It wouldn't last, but he didn't really want it to anyway.

Tomorrow he was going to hang out with the boys in his class again. They liked him and he had been better than most of them at basketball. Dale knew how to sneak some extra ice cream at lunch and he'd promised to show him the next day. Yeah, tomorrow he'd be playing outside and getting in trouble.

But that was tomorrow.

For now he didn't really mind the company.

"Oh," The girl let out a sharp gasp as their hands collided when they both reached for a chip. Warren stilled, his stomach churning at the shocked look on her face. Had he burned her? "You have some dust on your hands." She giggled.

Warren looked down at the crumbs on his fingers, the remains of the salty chips.

He shook his head and grabbed the last chip, ignoring the girl as she laughed and sipped her drink.

He didn't really understand how he got there, sitting next to some weird younger girl. He didn't even know her name or really care.

But he hadn't burned her.

And for now that was enough to keep him content.

Tomorrow he'd go back to school and maybe even enjoy it. He had new friends and a new life. Tomorrow he'd probably forget this girl even went to his school or that she laughed a little too loud.

But that was tomorrow.

For now he'd let her stay, content with knowing that for a moment he had touched her and maybe he wasn't so dangerous after all.

Some theories had exceptions. Little cracks that undermined the maker.

Maybe she was the exception to his theory.

But Warren didn't think too much about that. Tomorrow it wouldn't matter anyway.

---

_All the songs were ever sung,_

_All the words were ever said;_

_Could it be, when I was young,_

_Someone dropped me on my head?_

[-_Dorothy Parker_-]

---


	3. Nothing Gold Can Stay

**Chronicles of a Flower Child**

**Chapter Three: Nothing Gold Can Stay**

---

_Nature's first green is gold,  
Her hardest hue to hold._

Her early leaf's a flower;  
But only so an hour.

---

Layla had always been a pretty brave girl. The daughter of August Matthews Williams, a superb vet that could not only heal animals but talk to them as well. Her father was "The Shadowed Saint". He was a man that could manipulate shadows and use the dark as his weapons.

Both powerful parents had taught her to be strong and daring. Her best friend, however, hadn't seemed to be raised with the same influence.

"Layla!" Will complained cutely. His round cheeks and slightly large nose were bunched with childish annoyance. His impatience didn't seem to faze his companion. In fact, she seemed rather giddy. "L_ay_-la!"

"Oh hush," She laughed, tossing him an exasperated look over her shoulder. Her bright smile showed no anger though, and quickly she turned back to her task.

"Layla we should get home," Will fidgeted with his baseball cap. It was too big for him, a gift from his father no doubt, but the boy wore it faithfully despite its tendency to slip into his eyes. "My mom gets mad if I'm out past dark and the streetlights came on _ten_ minutes ago!"

"We're _six_ now, Will!" Layla was frowning with concentration and couldn't bother turning to argue with him. "We should be allowed out past dark. We're practically grown."

She could hear Will shuffle behind her, anxious to get home and avoid getting in trouble. But she new he'd never leave her alone. They were best friends and he wouldn't leave her out in the dark. After all, they were both going to be heroes one day and heroes didn't leave each other behind.

"Well hurry," The young boy urged in a most impatient way.

Layla closed her dark, chocolate brown eyes and tried to focus. If she tried really hard she was almost positive she could make a flower grow. She'd done it before, mostly by accident, but now when she really wanted to the plant simply wouldn't grow. It didn't help that Will was watching her.

In fact, the small girl was almost certain it was his fault.

"I can't do it with you staring at me," She pouted and crossed her arms. Her head was beginning to hurt from concentrating so hard and she wished her mom was there to soothe the pain. But as it were, there was only a small boy to keep her company in the dark park.

"You can't do it at all?" Will was eyeing her with uncertainty. He was tired and cranky and hadn't eaten dinner. "But the lima beans-"

"I know!" She pouted harder and glared down at the stupid dirt under her feet. Why wouldn't the flower just grow? She had promised Will she'd show him some of her powers and yet they seemed to have turned on her. "I don't know what's wrong."

Layla wanted to impress Will very much and so she resolved herself not to cry. Crying was for little girls and she was six now, not five, and six-year olds didn't cry

"Let's just go home," Will seemed less eager to see her powers and more eager to avoid his mother's wrath. "You can show me later."

Layla felt immensely disappointed but soon let a feeling of relief pool in her stomach. The idea of Will letting her show him her powers later was appealing. She was aware that most things involving Will were appealing. Her mother said she had a crush on him. Layla, who had always found boys rather rude and unneeded, wasn't used to the emotion her friend gave her.

But sure, maybe she did have a crush on the young Stronghold.

He was, after all, her very best friend. And if she had to like anyone she guessed he was a pretty good choice. They were both going to be heroes and so they could tell each other important secrets. The kind of important secrets that only children could appreciate.

"Promise?" She turned to stare at Will right in the eye. He squirmed, fiddling with his hat again, but smiled broadly at his newfound best friend.

"I promise," He agreed with a nod. He'd say almost anything to get the stubborn girl to let him go home. People didn't seem to understand that his mother was _scary_ when she was mad. "And maybe one day you could grow us and apple tree. I really like apples!"

Layla giggled and nodded. Together they walked back towards their homes, shyly holding hands and bumping shoulders as they treaded through the dark park and down the street. Neither noticed the tiny, green stub emerging from the earth.

A budding flower for a budding friendship.

---

Layla squirmed within her bed, restless and not at all tired. The covers around her were too hot and the breeze coming in through the window was too alive to ignore. She looked around her room, fighting the urge to kick off her sheets and run to her mother's room for another bedtime story. Sleep had always come slowly to the young girl and she frowned impatiently.

Her eyes scanned the light brown walls around her, the warm color reminding her of the bark of young trees and the soft fur of her fat cat. The fat cat that was now perched at her windowsill, eyes widely searching the street and tail flicking with urgency.

"Silly cat," Layla scolded lightly as she slipped out of her bed. "If you fall out of the window Mom will be mad."

The cat, Mocha, looked at her with an air of indifference before turning back towards the street.

Layla tilted her head, considering the lumpy animal with care. Finally she frowned. "Mom says you talk to her. She says you're rather ego_tis_-tic-al," She fumbled briefly with the hard word but recovered well. "Will you ever talk to me? I think I'd like to talk to animals too."

Mocha gave no inclination that she heard the young girl. Layla, realizing she must have been deemed unworthy, sighed with disappointment.

"Fine, don't talk to me," She patted the cat gently so as not to startle her and cause the feline to tumble out of the window and into the bushes below. "I'll just stick to plants."

'_At least plants don't have attitudes_…' Layla thought while propping her elbow up on the windowsill and resting her chin in her palm. Outside the warm, dark air called out to her. It invited her to come outside. It wanted her to slink out the door and enjoy such a beautiful night.

"Do you like the night?" Layla asked the cat, half-hoping the animal would answer but knowing she really wouldn't.

Mocha's eyes glowed as they tracked something down in the street. Layla frowned again before continuing with her own thoughts. That flower hadn't grown earlier and she still felt the pangs of disappointment. Her mother assured her that it was normal that her powers were so weak. She would gain more control as she got older.

But Layla wanted her powers to work _now_.

She wanted to grow flowers and trees with the snap of her finger. Maybe she'd grow apple trees so that Will would smile at her and be her friend forever. She'd really like that, even though she'd never been too fond of apples. She was fond of Will, and that was enough for the little girl.

Suddenly Layla was aware of Mocha tensing besides her, the feline's back hunching and her shoulders drawing together with the tension of a hunter. The fat cat couldn't run fast enough to catch a slug, but instincts never died. Layla tensed as well as she caught sight of the cat's prey.

Down on the street a figure was moving, slinking in the shadows and drowning in the dark. Layla's stomach fluttered briefly, half with fear and half with anticipation.

"Dad?" She whispered as loudly as she dared. She'd only seen her father manipulate the dark twice and she wasn't sure if that was what she was witnessing now. Could it be her father, the amazing shadow shifter, outside the house now?

No the figure wasn't as tall as her dad, she could see that from her window. Was it an animal? Sometimes animals came to their house, seeking her mother in hopes for food or care. It could be a rabbit, a stray dog, or even a deer.

But it wasn't moving like any deer Layla had ever seen. In fact it was moving kind of like—

"It _is_ a person!" Layla whispered quickly to the cat beside her. Mocha purred softly in what seemed to be agreement.

The person didn't seem to be aware of the two pairs of eyes staring from the window and instead kept moving skillfully fast down the street. Layla knew why she thought the person had been an animal. The figure _moved_ like an animal. All stealth, lunges, crouches, and quiet steps.

Layla very much wanted to meet this person who moved like an animal. Her curiosity was peeked and her attention riveted strongly for a girl so young.

How wonderful it would be to talk to something that seemed very much like the animals her mother held captive with growls and hisses. As Layla watched the shadow faltered, stumbled, and the moved again at a slightly slower place.

Layla gasped.

"The person is hurt," She bit at her lip. Should she go get her mother? Her father was out on a "business trip" but really he was fighting some mean guy, or so her mother said. So what should she do?

Well, if you were as brave a Layla the answer would be obvious.

You'd go help this person by yourself, of course.

"The park," Layla mumbled while gripping the windowsill with aching, small fingers. "It went in the park."

She backed away from the window with soft steps.

"Don't tell Mom," Layla begged the brown cat as she slipped on some ratty old shoes. The cat watched her blandly and then turned back to the street. Layla sighed, hoping that meant her secret was safe. "Bye."

Because how could she not follow the mysterious person? How could such a wonderfully potential adventure go without being pursued? Layla was nothing if not stubborn and adventurous. Her mother had taught her well.

And so she slipped from her room, no longer concerned with sleep or bedtime stories or rude cats. She was a woman (already six-years old!) and she was strong. One day she would be a hero and heroes were brave. And so she must be brave too, because that only seemed right.

---

Layla tripped over a root, tumbling down against the hard, uneven earth. It was too dark to see in the park and Layla wasn't faring too well with walking. She felt the air rush out of her lungs as she hit the dirt and blinked as pain filled her side. The dark around her was much scarier than it had seemed in her room, but that wasn't important.

She was _brave_ and determined and…and…

Lost.

Oh, where was Will? He wouldn't have let her get lost. In fact, he wouldn't have let her do this in the first place. Will knew better. He was pretty sensible for a little boy. He had boundaries that she refused to conform to. Will wouldn't have let her wander out into the park in the middle of the night. He'd warn her about the ghosts and monsters and evil villains and…

And forget Will! Where was her _Mom_?!

Layla whimpered softly as she pulled herself off the ground. Her red hair, that was braided and still damp from her earlier bath, curled horridly in the warm air. She dusted off her pajamas and rubbed at her dirty cheek. The back of her hand was mysteriously wet as she pulled it away and she realized she was crying. Softly crying, but crying none the less.

She kept crying because heroes weren't supposed to be scared of the dark. They were supposed to be brave and move like animals and blend easily with the night. But she just kept tripping and bumping into trees and walking for what seemed to be miles but was really only a couple feet.

And then Layla cried even harder because she realized she was most likely walking in _circles _and hadn't come any closer to home _or_ that mysterious woman who was probably the greatest hero there ever was.

"Don't cry," She told herself. She had to get home and crying wouldn't get her home.

But maybe if someone (like her mom) heard her crying they could come (running) and save her and take her home.

No, _no_. She wouldn't cry. She'd keep going.

So with the determination of a child on a mission, Layla scrubbed at her wet cheeks until they were hopefully dry and rubbed the dirt off her aching elbow. Her feet avoided the cruel root this time and soon she was pushing away the branches of a bush and edging towards the path she was certain was there.

_Crunch_.

She stilled, heart beating faster at the sound of leaves crunching beneath feet. It wasn't her feet, so that could only mean…

And there it was. That shadowed figure from before. It was across the dirt pathway, against the line of trees opposite to where she stood. It seemed to be leaning against the old swing set that was creaking eerily in the night wind. Layla sucked in a breath, her chocolate eyes only seeing the shape and figure of the mysterious figure that had eluded her so skillfully. She couldn't focus on anything else.

What an adventure! She'd done it. Without Will and without her mom. She'd found the animal-figure that surely held secrets that she could learn. Secrets that would make her strong and impress Will and…

And then…and then her riveted expression faltered and melted.

The moon had come out from behind a cloud, casting a faint glow on the inky green grass and trees around her. And now she could see the figure properly. Well…almost properly. She could make out only a rough shape that she hadn't noticed before and her anticipation faded completely. It wasn't a strong heroine like her mother that moved with ease and strength. It was a strong man like her father that could cloak himself in shadows.

It was a boy. A young boy.

She sighed.

Just a boy no older than herself.

His height only topped hers by a hand's width and his shoulders were slumped and slim much like Will's. His hands seemed to be shoved in his pockets and his face was still obscured by the shadows that marred most details in the night. He was just a boy, not at all the hero offering her adventure like she'd imagined in the confines of her room.

Layla was unsure of what to do now as disappointment clutched at her stomach. She just stood and watched the boy who remained unaware of her. She wished he'd just go away. Her own mind tinged with jealously that he'd been so impressive to her earlier. No boys really impressed her except Will and he was an obvious exception.

"I know you're there," The words floated on the breeze and Layla jolted with shock.

He'd _seen_ her? Had he crunched those leaves purposefully to draw her attention?

"Who-" Layla began to ask but then decided she'd rather not know. She'd let this adventure remain as mysterious as it could. Knowing his name would spoil it completely. So instead she called. "Isn't it past your bedtime?!"

She smiled, proud at herself for sounding so brave and old and very much like her mother would—

"H-hey!" She scowled, slightly stunned. He was walking _away_. Mean boy! Hff. H-he should be amazed at her bravery. "Wait!"

He didn't. He kept walking away in that practiced, melt-y way he seemed to have. Jealousy touched her again and her small body trembled with it. Or was that tremble because of fear? Because, after all, it was still dark and she was still _very_ lost. And, well, a stupid boy was better than nothing, right?

"Hey!" Small feet ran across the park clearing after the shadow-boy. He wasn't Will, but for not he'd have to do. "Don't leave yet! I—oh!"

Layla stumbled to a stop as she watched the boy fall to the ground again. He let out a soft groan that floated in the dark. The stars allowed little light and Layla squinted and tried to watch him. How had she forgotten? The boy had been hurt before and he obviously hadn't healed yet.

"Are you okay?" She asked gently.

"I'm fine." The boy grumbled with a voice slightly deeper than the boys in her class. He must be older than her, she decided, but not by much.

"You're hurt," She said with worry. She had to help him.

"I said I'm fine," He answered with boyish indignation. "My father just…I didn't—never mind." He seemed annoyed about something, his arm clutching at his stomach and his other touching his leg tenderly. "Why are you following me?" The boy asked once he was standing. He didn't seem particularly interested but he asked nonetheless.

'Because you walked like an animal' sounded very dumb all of the sudden. And stupid. And laughable. And not at all plausible.

So Layla shrugged her shoulders, trying to play it cool like the older kids in school did.

"Whatever," He muttered into the dark, sounding very childish and Layla giggled. "_What_?"

"You aren't very scary," She told him with a bright smile.

"Who said I was trying to scare you?" He asked before turning to leave again.

Layla skipped after him, looking calm and lighthearted despite the fact that she was lost in the middle of a park. Layla could only be afraid for so long before the emotion faded away. Soon she was dancing circles around the boy who seemed unaware of her as he continued walking.

"Why are you out so late?" She asked him, slightly dizzy from her motions.

"Would you go away?" The boy pushed at her shoulder but as soon as his hand fell away Layla was back at his side. Her shoulder felt oddly warm from his touch, but the heat faded within moments.

"Aren't you scared of the dark?" She asked with knitted eyebrows.

"Boys aren't scared of the dark," He told her firmly.

Layla laughed. He must not have met Will before.

"Well I'm not afraid either," Layla told him proudly. She stumbled over a rock but managed to catch herself. "I love the night!

They walked for a moment and Layla tried to peer up at his face, not quite sure why he turned his face into the shadows. To keep from being seen maybe? Layla didn't bother asking. She felt as if she knew him anyway. The stranger felt familiar and oddly enough Layla accepted this feeling without question.

Layla sighed and stared up at the sky, her eyes blinking up at the stars and moon with wonder. Warm air filled her lungs and the grass beneath her feet smelled sweet. The earth was alive.

"You shouldn't be wandering by yourself," The boy called Layla back down to earth and she looked back over to where he walked a few paces away, cloaked in the dark.

"No," Layla agreed. She'd be in a lot of trouble if her mother found out.

"Do you know how to get home?" He seemed doubtful and Layla remembered that this wasn't her first time being lost. She'd been lost a few weeks ago as well, back when she first moved in. But that had turned out okay.

"I think so," She smiled and looked around. This part of the park looked familiar. She frowned and gazed around. It looked very familiar. In fact it looked like the place where—

"Weird," The boy murmured softly into the night.

Layla caught sight of his interest up ahead. A pale beam of moonlight that seeped through the thin clouds spread across the grass before them. In the silver hues of the moon's glow was a single white flower among the sea of grass. Its petals, wide and curling back, shown brightly like a fallen star.

"It must bloom at night," The boy muttered. "That flower there."

Layla said nothing. She just stared in awe at the pretty flower.

_Her_ flower.

The one she had tried to grow with Will earlier.

"It's so pretty," She whispered as the boy kept walking, unaware of her shock. She had done that. She had grown something that beautiful. She may never be beautiful when she grew older, or as brave as her mother, but she would always know that she could make something so wonderful.

Even for a girl so young, such knowledge was reassuring.

"I have to get home now," The boy paced a few feet ahead of her. She ignored him and knelt down before the flower.

"I wonder what kind of flower this is," She said as she touched the soft petals as lightly as she could.

"Who cares?" He walked back towards her and grabbed her arm. With a sharp yank he pulled her to her feet. "Get home, it's too dark out here to be bothering with flowers."

Layla, who thought it was never too late for flowers, just scowled and brushed his hand away. Her skin tingled slightly where he had grabbed her, like the times she stayed out in the sun too long at the beach. He had left a bloody handprint on her sleeve.

"You're bleeding," She said as she touched the warm blood on her arm. Her stomach turned like when she had the flu.

"I'm fine," He said stiffly, his hands shoved back into his pockets and his form retreating back to the shadows. "When I was training I, well, just…just forget it."

Layla nodded. "Okay."

"I have to go home," He said, still shifting away. Layla wanted to reach out and grab him, keep him in the moonlight. Her only friend in the dark. "I have to go."

He was repeating was Will had said earlier, but this time Layla didn't protest.

"Okay," She said instead. "Alright."

She walked towards him, her hand outstretched to grab his but he swerved around her, avoiding her touch.

"Don't!" He shouted at her. "I'll…I'll…just don't touch me."

Layla swallowed as the innocent beauty and adventure of the night faded and drifted away with the wind. Her eyes watched the shadowed boy, half wondering if he would disappear if she blinked. He seemed unreal, untouchable, hurt, distant. He was wounded like so many of the animals she'd seen her mother help.

He was truly hurt, and she was no hero. She couldn't save him.

"I want to go home," She told him.

He was clutching at his stomach again and now Layla saw what she hadn't seen before. A thin trail of blood littered the grass where he had walked. A trail of pain in the light of the moon, making the crimson liquid glitter like ruby droplets. His breathing, the only thing convincing her that he was real and not her imagination, was heavy like when she ran too fast.

Suddenly she was glad for the dark. She didn't want to see this boy. She'd cry if she did.

"I want to go home," She repeated. "I know the way from here."

"Okay," he began to back away. Blood marked his retreat. "Okay."

Layla watched him go, the boy drifting in the dark like an animal. A wounded animal. She blinked and looked down at the ground, feeling ill and wishing she could be back in her room. She couldn't make him better. She was too young. She didn't even know him, they were not friends, not classmates, not anything, but still she wanted to cry.

Still, he had been important. Somehow he was important.

And she had let him go away.

She had had a moment, a chance to do something amazing. Something remarkable and life changing she was sure. But she had let it slip because she had been scared. She had let the moment pass and the possibility flicker out like a flame in the wind.

His blood had scared her, but his fear of her touch had hurt her worse. Layla was young, but even children can feel the sting of rejection.

Layla cried out, her hand moving and yanking the flower from the ground. She tossed it away with a sob. Because what use were flowers when a boy was bleeding? What good were powers when you were too young to use them?

And what use are good intentions if people are still hurt anyway?

The flower glittered against the ground, its white petals stained with crimson blood as the wind blew through the air. The earth was alive, but Layla didn't really care.

She wondered quietly, as she cried, if he was alright. She wondered if she could have helped him somehow, brought him home to her mom or walked him home herself. She could have held his hand. She could have said something comforting.

She would grow a thousand flowers, make a thousand trees, but never could she forgive herself for not having the power to have looked at his face.

She wasn't so brave after all.

---

_Then leaf subsides to leaf.  
So Eden sank to grief,_

So dawn goes down to day.  
Nothing gold can stay.

[-_Robert Frost_-]

---

**Ah, the crack in the innocence of youth. Sometimes you can't do anything, even though you wish you could. Life just isn't that easy.**

**And so Layla and Warren meet again, although under darker and less familiar circumstances**. **No, they won't become friends. They don't really know each other in the movie, do they? **

**Sometimes life is more about little chance encounters, and those can mean more that a relationship sometimes. **

**This chapter hopefully showed that although Layla is strong, she is still young and has a lot of growing to do. We can not do everything ourselves, despite being the wonderful age of six :) **

**Also I wanted to show Will and Layla together. Their sweet, innocent relationship.**


	4. On the Beach At Night

**Chronicles of a Flower Child**

**Chapter Four: On the Beach At Night**

_---_

_On the beach at night, _

_Stands a child with her father_

---

A man stood beside his daughter on the beach. The waves rolled in, breaking against the white sand that shone like glass under the moon. They both stood barefoot and watching the tide come in. The man said nothing and the small girl of only two was quiet as well. His hand held her hand gently. Reassuringly. And everything was peaceful and right.

In and out the waves came.

A salty breeze blew against them, tangling the little girl's red hair. She blinked tiredly.

And still the waves came in and out.

"It'll always be this way," The father told his daughter. "The waves will always make this noise. They will always flow in and out. This will never change."

The girl just smiled as the sand seeped between her baby toes. Her brown eyes watched the waves.

"No matter what they build here, the ocean was always here first, and it will always remain" He told her some more. "And it will be here long after we're gone."

The waves came in and out and the sound was a familiar lullaby to the toddler.

"One day you'll understand how important this all is," Her father waved an arm towards the ocean, the sand, the stars, and the moon. "One day you'll love it as much as I do."

The girl blinked again, the stars reflecting in her eyes and her red hair playing with the wind.

"You're important too, Layla," The father smiled. "Just like the wind and the waves and the sky."

The girl giggled, her small hand clasped tightly in her father's larger one as he led her down towards the water. She let the cool water meet her toes as she stumbled around in the shallow waves. Her father held tight, watching closely as she carefully walked. Foam and sand stuck to her skin as the water moved away.

"Again!" She squealed.

Hand and hand they walked down the beach, kicking up water and sand. The girl laughed and looked out towards the dark sea that seemed to stretch on forever. Dune pansies spouted and grew with each step she took, pushing out from the sand in the shape of her footprints.

Hand and hand they walked, heading towards home where the girl's mother waited. They passed no one and they didn't talk. The stars above blinked wildly and the breeze blew.

And still the waves came in and out.

---

_They are immortal, all those stars both silvery and golden shall shine out again, _

_The great stars and the little ones shall shine out again, they endure, _

_The vast immortal suns and the long-enduring pensive moons shall again shine_

_[-Walt Whitman-]_

_---_

**Short. Sorry.**


	5. After A Hundred Years

**Chronicles of a Flower Child**

**Chapter Five: After A Hundred Years**

---

_After a hundred years_

_Nobody knows the place,--_

_Agony, that enacted there,_

_Motionless as peace._

---

"Come on Will!" I yelled encouragingly. I clapped my hands, bouncing slightly.

Will was spun around three times, his blindfold firmly in place. Finally he was let lose, slightly stumbling, to hit the piñata. The broom handle, held tightly in his hands, was swung hard. Around us kids laughed as Will only managed to strike air. I bit my lip, praying he'd find his target. Two more failed tries later and I felt anxious.

"Come on Will!" I repeated. The paper-mache animal was dangling from a tree branch…no where near where Will was aiming. All the kids stood in a circle, ready for the candy to fall.

It was Will's birthday party. We'd been friends all year at school. Inseparable. Now here I was surrounded by all our classmates and having to watch my best friend embarrass himself. This was not turning out to be a good party. My eyes strayed away from Will as he swung again and this time almost hit another kid.

This was getting to be too much.

I looked around. All of our parents stood around the awning. Some watching and smiling, others talking to each other. My mom was near the food table. It was covered in a rocket ship table cloth and filled with snacks that my mom never let me eat at home. Nothing organic like she preferred. But I had been sneaking handfuls all day.

I waited for her to look away and talk to Mrs. Stronghold. It took her a minute but the moment her gaze moved I spun back to where Will was blindly walking around. Narrowing my eyes I looked up at the branch of the large oak tree that stood in the backyard of the Stronghold home. And then I felt it. My powers. It bubbled up like the nervous butterflies I sometimes got and my skin seemed to cool and tingle.

I bit my lip and fisted my palms and with more resolve then I thought possible I watched as the large branch creaked and moved.

"You did it!" The kids around me cheered as they rushed towards Will and the now huge pile of candy that lay around him. Will pushed the blindfold off his eyes and looked down in shock at the candy and then up at the cracked piñata that was swaying from the branch. He grinned, satisfied.

I looked around, relieved.

No one had noticed the branch move. Or if they did they thought it was simply a trick of the wind. No one was talking about how ironic it was that the branch magically moved so that Will would hit the piñata. No one knew that I had used my powers. No one even assumed.

No one…except for my mother.

"_Layla_!" My mother hissed as she grabbed my arm and began pulling back and away from all the other kids. I stumbled, but not because she was being rough or anything. It's just that suddenly my legs felt really weak. And my stomach hurt. Maybe it had been the food?

Soon we were inside the Stronghold kitchen, the cool a/c felt good and my mom lifted me up onto their countertop. I sat, hunched, my legs dangling off the edge. The world spun slightly and I blinked up at my mom. She was frowning down at me, her eyes sympathetic as she touched my cheek.

"Are you alright?" She asked, slightly angry and worried all at once.

"What happened?" I mumbled.

"You used your powers, that's what happened!" She said with an irritated wave of her hand. "Do you know how dangerous that is? Someone could have noticed. Someone could have figured it out. Layla, you can't do that!"

"Why not?" I shot back, feeling guilty and upset. "I was only trying to help Will. And besides, they're _my_ powers. I can do what I want with them."

My mom sighed and shook her head. She stepped forward and gently wrapped me in a hug. I laid my head against her, feeling slightly better and upset all at once. "I'm sorry baby," She whispered to me. "I'm so sorry."

"Why can't I use my powers?" I asked. "Why does it have to be a secret?"

"Because...because it just does," She looked into my eyes. "Some people don't understand our powers. They think it makes us dangerous. They think it makes us a hazard. They're wrong, but still that's how it is. I wish you could use your powers freely but for now you can't."

I nodded slowly but still didn't understand. I was going to be a hero. Did people like heroes?

"Don't ever do that again," She smiled at me, lovingly.

"Fine," I sighed and crossed my arms. She grinned and batted a red braided pigtail off my shoulder. "But mom…why did I feel sick? That's never happened before."

"You're used to small plants…like flowers. That tree out there is as old as this land. Ancient. It takes a lot more power to move that than a flower. It's like trying to move a mountain." She touched my hair again. "But you still managed to move it, didn't you? My girl is tough!"

I smiled and nodded.

"I'm sorry mom," I told her as she put me back down on the ground. "Can I go back out and eat candy now?"

My mom cringed. "Candy? Layla that's so bad for you!"

"Oh come on, August!" Mrs. Stronghold laughed as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed another bag of chips. "Let the girl live a little. She's just a kid."

"Josie..." My mom gave the other woman a look and then they both smiled at each other. My mom had once told me that both she and Mrs. Stronghold were in the same class in High School. They hadn't been friends but still they knew each other. But that was back when she was Josie Marie Carlson. Back before she met Mr. Stronghold.

"Come on Layla," Mrs. Stronghold waved me over. "Let's go back outside. It's almost time for cake and presents."

I smiled and eagerly pushed through the door and out into the yard. Behind me I heard my mom sigh.

"You just had to use a piñata shaped like an animal, didn't you Josie? How inhumane."

Mrs. Stronghold laughed. "Oh August, don't be such a wet blanket."

---

"Are you having a good birthday?" I asked Will as I pulled him back behind a large bush that hid us both. All the other kids were playing tag and didn't notice our absence. Will's face, flushed from running, was close to mine as we stood with leaves brushing our arms.

"Yeah, really good!" He grinned and adjusted his baseball hat. "Mark got me a new Lego set and Beth got me a Bop-It and…" He suddenly frowned and gave me a weird look. "Wait, what did you get me? Did I forget to open your present?"

"Um…no…" I giggled loudly, awkwardly. "Actually I didn't really buy you a gift."

Will seemed to hesitate before crossing his arms. "Why not? You're my best friend. You're supposed to give me a gift." I blushed and looked away. "Well?"

"Well what?" I looked back at him.

"Didn't your mom say anything?" He seemed upset.

"No, she didn't really mind. She actually said she was proud I wasn't conforming." At Will's blank look I sighed. "But I'm still going to give you a present!"

"But you just said you didn't buy me anything," He tilted his head, his had falling slightly into his eyes.

"I didn't," I twisted my hands in front of me. He blinked. "But I still have something to give you."

The sounds of the party were loud and the bush beside us pricked at my arm. But I still reached out and quickly touched Will's hand. And before I got too scared I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. They were soft and slightly wet. It was a fast act but as I pulled back I could still feel the cool, moist feel of his lips on mine.

We stared at each other, blinking and nervous.

"What was that?" Will finally laughed, breaking the mild tension.

I let go of his hand and smiled back. "That was my first kiss."

"Mine too," He nodded and then looked away. "Kinda gross, huh?"

I giggled. "Yeah, gross."

"Let's not do that again," He smiled and pushed my shoulder before running around me to join the game again. I watched him before smiling to myself. I touched my lips and grinned. I wasn't quite sure why people kissed but I knew it was important. All the women in the old movies my grandma used to watch would swoon after kissing someone.

I didn't really feel faint. I didn't really feel anything.

But maybe I could still feel the way his lips felt on mine. A feeling that I'd never forget, not in a hundred years. That wasn't as amazing as I thought, but it wasn't half bad either.

---

"Thank you for coming!" Mrs. Stronghold pulled my mom into a friendly hug, cringing only slightly when my mom's feather necklace brushed against her. A crow had given it to my mom a week ago and I liked the look of it. "The potato momos were…great. Thanks for bringing them!"

"I thought the kids might want to try something healthy to eat," My mom shrugged.

"Well…thank you for coming too Layla!" Mrs. Stronghold smiled down at me. "Will was so happy you could make it."

"I wouldn't have missed it," I told her honestly.

She opened her mouth to reply when suddenly her attention was averted. I looked to see both her and my mom watch as an old silver car drove by. Both of the older women beside me seemed still and pensive. Lost in their thoughts. I frowned and reached up to tug my mom's hand.

"What's wrong?" I asked her worriedly.

Both my mom and Mrs. Stronghold looked back at me, quiet. Then they turned to each other.

"Did that look like…?" My mom trailed off.

"It did," Mrs. Stronghold's voice was tighter than normal. Weird.

"Look like who?" I tugged on my mom again.

"Did she move here?" My mom continued, ignoring me.

"I wasn't aware if she did…" Mrs. Stronghold stared out at the empty street.

"Who?!" I tried to be louder. They both looked at me.

"No one, dear," Mrs. Stronghold gave me an odd smile. "Just a woman your mother and I used to go to school with."

"Sky High?" I asked, smiling. "Is she a hero?"

"She used to be, but she's not anymore," My mom answered me.

"What's her name?" I asked.

My mom looked slightly unsure. She gave Mrs. Stronghold one last look before the other woman retreated back into the house. I followed my mom out towards our car.

"What's her name?" I asked again.

"Annabelle Lee Carson," My mom replied. "Or at least that was her name in high school."

"What's her name now?" I frowned.

My mom sighed and unlocked the door to our car. "Annabelle Lee Peace."

"Peace?" I asked. "That's a cool last name!"

My mom gave me a strange look. "I suppose so…"

"Why did Mrs. Stronghold look so upset?" I pressed. "Was Annabelle bad?"

"No, honey," My mom touched the top of my head. "Mrs. Stronghold and I just haven't seen her in a really long time. We were startled, that's all."

"Oh…" I trailed off.

My mom put me in my seat before walking around to hers. We buckled up and she began to drive. We were quiet for a moment and I knew my mom was thinking of that lady. I watched her, waiting to be acknowledged.

"Mrs. Stronghold and Annabelle are cousins," My mom said at last. "Josie and Annabelle Carson. Two of the most gorgeous girls to ever set foot in Sky High."

"If they're cousins why didn't Mrs. Stronghold know she lived here?" I asked.

My mom smiled over at me. "It's adult stuff, honey, don't worry about it."

I sighed and looked out the window. Curious and feeling as if this were much more important than I could guess.

---

_Winds of summer fields_

_Recollect the way,--_

_Instinct picking up the key_

_Dropped by memory._

_[-Emily Dickinson-]_

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**Two quick updates! Hope you enjoyed. Next chapter will be a jump to high school. Sorry it took so long to post these!**


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